Dueling Wands
by Animus86
Summary: In a duel, neither light or darkness, right or wrong, exist. Only the will to prevail and the power to do so matters when two opponents face each other. Here I give you a collection of various duels in the wizarding world, where souls collide and fates ar
1. When Titans Clash

**Dueling Wands**

By Animus

* * *

_DISCLAIMER: Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm not making any profit out of this story._

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: A big thank you to my beta reader, A.L. de Sauveterre, for her excellent job at correcting my mistakes and commenting on my story._

* * *

**Chapter I: When Titans clash.**

"So, we finally meet." A high, cold voice, tinted with slight amusement, rose out from the darkness. "You should know it is futile. I cannot be defeated by someone like you, Dumbledore."

"In that, you are wrong." Albus Dumbledore's voice was calm as he came into view. He was clad in a simple dark red robe, a cloak of the same colour and black boots; also, atop his auburn hair was an old, tattered, pointy hat. 

Albus searched the darkness where he was now. He had just descended a flight of stairs leading to one of the most obscure places in the whole of London: the secret catacombs of the Tower of London, where countless prisoners had been buried in the past. The room in which he had arrived was a circular one, dimly lit by torches set in four points, forming a square, of the stony wall. Beyond the square, shadows hid everything, including he who Albus had come to fight.

"Show yourself, Marcus." Albus' calm voice echoed through the room as he pulled out his wand. This was the same wand that had realized countless deeds, most of them worthy of praise, and yet, today it would have to prove itself. 

Silence was the only answer he got. 

After some moments of tense waiting, a dark figure at last came into view. Completely dressed in black robes and cloak, the figure stared from beneath the hood with cold eyes the colour of gold. A smirk was also visible.

"Please Dumbledore, I prefer to be called Lord Grindelwald. It is a more fitting title for he who will rule the world."

The moment Albus saw and heard Grindelwald, his insides were full of fury. This was the man who had brought a terrible war upon the world at large, who had dared to attack his school and bathe his hands with the blood of innocents, and above all, he was the man who had killed Helena, his fiancée that had been robbed from him too early.

_My dear Helena_, Albus thought, _you were torn from my side by that maniac... As he gave you no mercy, I will give him none._

"I'm afraid, Marcus, that you will never be called that way again…" Albus said, his voice turning slightly colder. His keen blue eyes glared in full hatred with a fire very few had ever seen. And all those who had seen that fire had regretted it. His poise, however, was still calm and expectant, ready to sprang in action.

Grindelwald's only answer was a cold laughter that infuriated Albus even more.

When it died down, Grindelwald slowly removed his hood and drew out his wand. Grindelwald's blond hair was slightly visible in the dim light, as well as the small smile he was still wearing. The mocking was evident, and it repulsed Albus. His voice still had that cold amusement that filled Albus with wrath. Marcus Grindelwald thought of him as another pebble on his road, and that was going to be his downfall. 

Albus was going to make sure of that.

"Enough of this," Grindelwald said softly, yet menacingly. "Let us do what we came to do. Ready, Dumbledore?"

Albus nodded in agreement and removed his hat, carefully placing it on the ground. Then he and Grindelwald held their wands in front of their faces, as if they were swords, and bowed. Each man's eyes never left the other's. As they rose again, both tall and strong like the titans they were, time seemed to stop. Electricity filled the air as their wills struggled and the rest of the world ceased to exist for them.

And so, the duel began.

Albus and Grindelwald immediately pointed their wands at each other and launched their first spells. Like dragons breathing fire, their wand tips exploded in green and red flashes of light, the jets rushing at amazing speed and then colliding in the air. The resulting explosion of two curses neutralizing each other shook the entire room and made enough smoke and dust to rise over and cover the battlefield. Three times this was repeated, and three times the results were the same, and after realizing the futility of this, both opponents vanished in a whirl of their cloaks.

Albus reappeared in the middle of the room. He was tempting Grindelwald to attack him with his best, and just as he expected, green light came from the right and behind him. He turned to face the curse. 

_"Reflecto!"_ He yelled, and in an instant a mirror materialized in front of him just before the light reached him. The green light smashed against the mirror and made it explode in a thousand tiny shards. They showered down in a rain of little reflections, but the magical mirror worked and the jet was bounced directly towards its source. The green light tore through the darkness to simply smash against a wall.

"Good," Grindelwald's voice reached Albus' ears. It came from behind, and no longer was there any amusement in it. "You are better than I expected, Dumbledore, but you cannot defeat me with some clever spells…"

Albus simply kept his stance. He couldn't afford to lose his concentration by answering him, so he simply waited, his wand at the ready. He didn't have to wait for long, though, as a distinct sound reached him: rattling and hissing. 

Snakes were coming after him.

Four snakes came into view, all quickly slithering towards him and hissing menacingly, their rattles mocking him with their warning sound. He lost no time, though, as he knew a green light was coming, and pointed his wand at one of the snakes at the same time that he muttered an incantation. The snake shimmered in bright white for a second, hissing loudly as if in pain, and then it started to change; the snake grew legs and fur, its head and mouth growing as the fur turned white with black streaks. When the transformation was done, what was left in place of the snake was a badger. A hungry badger. It immediately viciously attacked the other snakes as Albus vanished away, green light coming from his left barely missing him.

Albus knew now was his turn to attack, and as he reappeared to the left of where the green light had come, he raised his wand and muttered _"Flamma"_. From the tip of his wand, bright, orange flames poured forth, lighting the room and revealing a surprised Grindelwald. The flames, however, didn't torch Grindelwald as the Dark Lord had expected. Instead, they fell around him, forming a ring of sorts and setting up a perfect target for Albus to shoot at. Grindelwald realised just that a second too late, and was blasted against the wall by Albus' Blasting Charm. He fell to the ground.

Albus knew this was not the end. 

Behind him the badger had finished killing the snakes and now was devouring them with quite some content. He approached the fallen body cautiously, his wand pointing directly at it. Grindelwald did not move, and a small hope actually rose inside him that perhaps his attack had been enough to knock him out. Albus also knew that he had to finish Grindelwald right there and then, and as he gathered determination to utter the hated curse, his eyes caught sight of Grindelwald's wand. It was pointing right behind Albus, and his lips were barely moving at all as they gave voice to a spell. 

Before Albus could react or fire his curse, he felt a very hard thing impact his skull from behind. He fell to his knees, but hastily jerked his head up to see his now standing opponent. His eyes fell on Grindelwald, who was smirking and giving him a glare full of hate. He was pointing his wand at a stone floating at his side. It seemed to be covered in a dark substance. 

_My Blood_. Albus guessed correctly.

With a flick of his wrist, the stone shot at Albus, who was still defenceless, and hit him squarely in the face, cracking his nose in the process. Albus fell backwards, and the pain coming from his sore face and broken nose made it very hard for him to stay conscious, let alone concentrate. The blood gushing out didn't help at all. 

However, he focused all his will on standing up because he knew Grindelwald could finish him at any second. He could not be defeated yet. He was the only one who had a true possibility of defeating Grindelwald. Managing a sitting position, he tried to get a firm grip on his wand, only to watch in horror as Grindelwald acquired it through a simple _Expelliarmus_. 

All his hopes failed. He had failed.

Grindelwald laughed again, and this time it was a terrible laugh. Cruel and cold, it was the same maniacal laugh he had used when he dared to storm Hogwarts. And the look in his eyes, relish evident at the sight of a helpless opponent, had been the same when he had killed her.

_I'm not dying now!_ Albus' whole self inwardly yelled as Grindelwald pointed his wand at his chest, but his mind gave him no answers about how to escape and the pain in his face was not making it any easier. Unexpectedly, the Dark Lord started to speak.

"You know, Dumbledore, now I realize it is a shame I have to kill you," at that Albus' eyes widened in surprise, but only for a second, after which they resumed their hateful glaring. "And I'm saying that because you have been the first to ever hurt me. Whole Auror squads fell without even touching my hair, and yet you almost put me in an uncomfortable position. Most remarkable." Grindelwad's smirk was repulsive for Albus, and so he tore his eyes away from him and searched for something, anything, that could be of use. The only thing he saw was his forgotten hat, lying a few feet away from him.

"It is such a shame your power doesn't serve my noble cause," Grindelwald continued, "but only one of us can live. Farewell, professor... _Avada Keda--!_"

Much to Albus' surprise, his conjured badger had attacked Grindelwald and prevented him from using the Killing Curse. It had jumped over him from behind, surely because Grindelwald smelled like his snakes, and now the Dark Lord was struggling to take it away. 

If Albus actually survived the duel, he would be grateful to that badger for the rest of his life.

Grasping this moment of distraction, Albus jumped towards the old hat. He didn't know why he did that. It was almost as if an invisible force compelled him to reach out for the hat, instead of trying to recover his wand. The hat was lying on its side, the opening facing Albus, and so his hand slid into it.

He grasped metal.

Behind him, Grindelwald had turned the badger back into smoke and was aiming at Albus' back. Without another thought a jet of green light came from his wand, and it almost seemed to take the form of a green skull rushing at Albus ready to claim his life. 

The battle was over. There was no escape now. Of that, Grindelwald was certain.

In one fluid motion, Albus rose to his feet and twirled around, his hand tightly pressed around the rubies of the hilt as he brandished the gleaming silver blade. This was Godric Gryffindor's old sword, a sword rumoured to be imbued with magical properties, and Albus turned it against the Killing Curse in one last desperate attempt to survive.

To his and Grindelwald's greatest surprise, the sword withstood the impact and even deflected the jet of light towards the ceiling. The sword was intact. Albus' hand was shaking alongside the sword's blade, but his fury brought him back to his senses and so he lost no time and lunged forward with a cry. 

The sword met little resistance as it plunged deep into the chest of the shocked Grindelwald.

Albus did not move for a few seconds, his eyes intently fixed upon Grindelwald's own eyes. Grindelwald stared back no longer with coldness, but with fear and despair.

"How-How could this be?" Grindelwald gasped before collapsing to the floor and dying. 

That was the same question Albus had always asked himself. How could ambition lead someone to kill and destroy? How could innocents die so easily, as if their lives did not matter? How could she have died when they had the rest of their lives ahead of them? How could all that be?

Sighing at his lack of answers, Albus slowly picked up his wand and the hat; in his other hand, Godric's sword rested. The blade was covered in blood as red as the rubies of the hilt, and Albus realized the sword had come to him in order to take revenge on Grindelwald for his attack on the school and the fallen students.

He then left the shadows of the catacombs and returned to the world as a new man.

Albus Dumbledore had won.


	2. The End of a Dream

**Dueling Wands**

By Animus

* * *

_DISCLAIMER: Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm not making any profit out of this story._

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: A big thank you to my beta reader, A.L. de Sauveterre, for her excellent job at correcting my many mistakes and commenting on my story._

* * *

**Chapter II: The End of a Dream**

"Come on Harry, don't let it go." James Potter joyfully said one fair evening to his son, who was sitting in his lap. His eyes, deep brown in colour, and his son's, the colour of emeralds just like his mother's eyes, were avidly following a flying, glimmering object. Golden, it resembled a marble but had wings, speed and a tendency to dart away from people's hands. Usually it was called a Snitch, but some people liked to call it 'that little bugger' and others the 'best catch of the day'. Either way, James caught the Snitch after a failed attempt by little Harry.

After smiling at the sight of mixed admiration for his dad and irritation for not having the Snitch in his hands that crossed his son's face, James prompted Harry to try once again to catch the Snitch. Harry failed, but on the third try a little hand managed to grab the Snitch by a wing and, at last, he caught it. Harry then giggled at the tickling sensation that the Snitch's wings were causing in his hands, and James glowed with pride. Yes, his son was brilliant, of that there was no doubt.

"So there you are." A female voice reached James as he and Harry prepared for another round of catching the Snitch, James preparing to release the Snitch, now back in his hands, from a different position. Upon hearing that voice, which was one he loved, James raised his eyes and gave his wife, Lily, a brilliant smile.

"Our Harry just caught his first Snitch!" James exclaimed, at which Lily gave a small sigh but smiled nonetheless. Pride and love shone on her face. 

"Yes, I know, you don't think Quidditch is overly important, but just imagine what great deeds he will be able to do if he keeps up like this," James continued while standing up and hoisting Harry in his arms. One of James' hands was still holding the Snitch.

"Of course," Lily agreed as she took up Harry in her arms. "Come on Harry, let's go before your father starts preaching about the superiority of Quidditch again." James' face fell, but then Lily laughed and he had to join in. Her laugh was like crystals ringing in unison, and he loved that laughter too much to resist joining in no matter what.

And James loved many other things as well. His son who was both his hope and joy at all times, his friends who were like brothers to him, and his life that, even if tainted by the war against a terrible Dark Lord, he would not change at all. 

It all seemed too good to be real, just like a dream.

After bidding Harry a good night, and receiving an incoherent reply from Harry, he ruffled the little boy's black hair, which was a perfect match of his own, and gave Lily a quick peck on the lips. After that, mother and son went up the stairs.

James then stood some moments contemplating the sky through the big window of the living room. Fire-tinted, it was giving way to deep blackness. In a few minutes the sun would go down. James then went through the living room and to a cupboard under the stairs, where, besides many other things, like a well-kept broom (James' own customized Chaser broom), a chess set with sleeping pieces (which James was sure Lily had charmed to be able to defeat Moony) and a box full with old school books (for Harry when he grew up), there was some sort of chest. 

James took that chest out of the cupboard and, lifting it onto the dining table, he opened it. Inside were four compartments. One had a strange looking red ball, called a Quaffle, while the other two kept tightly strapped black balls the size of a basketball. They were the Bludgers, and even now they were trying to escape. Finally James put the Snitch in the fourth, small compartment, which held it fast and secure.

James then did not move to return the chest back to the cupboard. Instead, he allowed his thoughts to wander for some moments. First he thought about the good memories Quidditch had given him and his friends, and then he thought of his friends and what they could possibly be doing right now: Moony surely was reading a heavy book with a nice cup of tea at his side since there was no moon tonight. Padfoot perhaps was playing with that new motorcycle of his; it seemed he cared for it more than himself. And Wormtail… Wormtail was making sure their secret was safe. 

It was thanks to Wormtail that he and Lily and Harry were safe from Voldemort, and thus allowed these past days of complete peace and happiness for him and his family. He would always be grateful to Wormtail. 

At last, James was done with his thoughts and was about to return the chest to the cupboard when he caught sight of the unusually black night that suddenly had fallen. He knew there was no moon that night, but normally stars were scattered completely across the sky at all times. Yet, today a deep black veil hung in the firmament, and the absence of light in the sky sent a shiver up his spine. 

That was never a good sign.

Shrugging his concern away, James was about to resume his stroll to the cupboard when he suddenly felt a very distinct feeling, one that he had only felt three times in his life, and each one had been a dreadful occasion.

Power.

James' heart stopped for a moment, but in the next he released his breath at the same time as he turned around to the front door. James then saw how the green and silver flames blew the white wooden door apart, the rubble of the door falling all around him as flames consumed it. His eyes, however, locked on the figure standing in the threshold.

_"Voldemort!"_

Enveloped in dark robes, red slits glaring at James, the Dark Lord Voldemort stood with his wand raised and pointed it at James. A pale hand firmly held the wand, and a vicious smile, the same one of a hunter who has cornered his prey, rested on his thin lips.

"Surprised to see me, Potter?" Cold was his voice, and it left James frozen in momentary shock. Seeing this, the Dark Lord let out a high-pitched laugh and stepped forward. James' mind finally caught on to the situation, though, and James immediately dropped the chest and drew out his wand, all the while running towards the stairs. As he ran he started to yell.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off --"

But James had been interrupted by green light. However, years of playing Quidditch allowed James to drop to the ground in time before the curse found him, but it was a near miss and the green light went to smash against the wall, where it left a burn mark. James hastily returned to his feet and prepared to face Voldemort.

"There's no use in trying to escape, Potter," the Dark Lord said as he slowly approached James, "Do you think I would allow it? No… not after having heard of your son and his future... You and that Mudblood have escaped from me three times, but now there's no escape."

"What did you do to Peter!?" James asked as he was trying to give Lily time to escape. She could not Apparate with Harry, so she needed to find another way out. He was also worried about his friend, fearing that Voldemort had exposed him to physical and mental tortures in order to get their secret. To his biggest surprise and shock, Voldemort told him otherwise.

"I thanked him, of course," Voldemort began, enjoying the look of hurt and disbelief forming in James' face. "He has been most useful this last year, but with this piece of information he has gained my favour…"

"Impossible…" James whispered as he processed the information in his mind. Wormtail was the traitor Dumbledore told him about. The same one that everyone was sure was responsible of the death of many members of the Order. And now, Wormtail had given his and his family's life to Voldemort. Wormtail had betrayed him.

"Now, die Potter." And Voldemort released a new jet of green light.

"NO!" James yelled, refusing to die so easily, and so raised his wand and cried _"Stupefy"_. Like balls of red and green fire, both curses met in midair, resulting in an explosion that threw James to the ground. Voldemort stood in his place, looking slightly amused.

"Yes… I expected no less from a Gryffindor… stupid bravery, but bravery in the end…" Voldemort drawled as James returned to his feet with all the agility of a good Chaser. James was well aware of the difference in power but he had to try. Voldemort surely was going to kill him, but he was determined to show him what a father was ready to do for his family.

_For you, Lily, and also for you, Harry_. James steeled himself for his sure fate and started to gather power. Then, in an explosion of red light, James attacked.

Voldemort was ready for it, though, and with a cold smile he put up a shield of such strength that James' attack bounced away not even making it quiver but just a little. The silver shield then vanished at Voldemort's command.

"Do you think that weak thing can be called a stunner? Allow me to show you a real stunner, Potter, so you may understand that it is futile to oppose me." Voldemort said, and then attacked with the same curse James had used. Red light flooded everything.

_"Protego!"_ James barely managed to conjure. Silver was his shield as well, and the jet of light met it in the same way a spear meets armour. An instant that seemed an eternity to James passed as both spells tested their strength, and in the end Voldemort's curse proved to be stronger. James' shield was broken and the curse reached him. His partially stunned body made an arch in the air before falling on a couch, which gave away and James found himself on the floor, fighting the effects of the stunner.

"You have delayed me for too long, Potter…" 

Voldemort's voice helped James to regain consciousness. He felt numb and exhausted, and even a small voice in his head suggested that he should just give up, that no matter what he did Voldemort had already won, and all thanks to a traitor. James opened his eyes just to see his living room in ruins and in some places small fires were starting to appear. At his side, he saw Voldemort raising his wand to deliver the final blow, but he also caught sight of the forgotten Quidditch chest at Voldemort's feet, and so James mustered all his strength and hastily aimed a _Reducto_ spell against the chest. The yellow jet of light flew as a bullet and reached its target with the same speed.

The magical blast reduced the chest to splinters, and from the destroyed depths a golden flash shot up accompanied by two black shadows that immediately started to fly around, smashing everything in their path as they sought a target. They found one in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Voldemort was forced to evade the Bludgers by jumping back, and in that moment of distraction James re-entered the fight. He was well aware that no one besides Headmaster Dumbledore could best Voldemort in a duel, so he had to keep surprising Voldemort in order to have a chance at winning. 

As impossible as it sounded, he had to try. 

And try he did. His whole being recalled that sense of freedom and raw power that only a wild creature could get as it started to change; powerful antlers grew at the sides of his transformed forehead, and his limbs became long, strong and agile legs. In a matter of seconds the transformation was complete, and a full grown up stag stood in place of James Potter.

Prongs charged.

Voldemort had just evaded the Bludgers' first attempt at hitting him, and with a swipe of his wand both black balls were engulfed in green flames and nothing but their ashes were left. He had forgotten about James for a mere second, and too late he realized that had been a mistake. A full grown stag rammed him down, its antlers barely missing his flesh, and Voldemort was knocked to the ground.

Prongs was gone and James returned, hope slowly appearing in his heart as he aimed his wand at Voldemort's fallen body. He could do it. He could save his family. Taking a last, deep breath, he gave voice to the curse.

Light the colour of blood left James' wand. It left a graceful trace of sparks as it consumed inch by inch the distance between the wand tip and the Dark Lord. James could already feel the taste and relief of victory. Against all probabilities he had fought and now he was victorious, because he was sure there was no one capable of escaping a curse when it was that close.

He was wrong.

One moment Voldemort was there, and the next moment nothing stood in his place. James' curse hit the wooden floor and scorched it with enraged flames due to having missed. James' eyes widened in surprise and disbelief, the little hope in his heart crumbling down as he started to frantically search for Voldemort. He didn't have to search for long.

_"Crucio!"_

Fire consumed James. Wild and furious, it devoured his very being. Hateful blades pierced him in every inch of his body, reaching each of his nerves and making them explode in pain. His whole existence was reduced to the pain he was feeling, and then, nothingness.

"You have done well Potter… I respect your bravery, but without power, you are nothing but a fool…"

James could barely make out the cold voice. His body still twitched from the effects of the Unforgivable, but his eyes quickly focused on the Dark Lord in front of him. He knew he didn't have his wand, and also knew there was no escape. 

It all had been a dream after all. To try and seek out a peaceful life with his family, to see his son grow up, and live at his wife's side each day of their lives. All a dream, a blissful dream he wanted to never wake up from, but dreams are nothing but a brief respite from reality, and thus they end.

_"Avada Kedavra."_

His dream was over.


	3. A Dance of Masters

**Dueling Wands**

By Animus

* * *

_DISCLAIMER: Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm not making any profit out of this story._

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: A big thank you to my new beta reader, Kaitie, for her excellent job at correcting my many mistakes and giving me wonderful feedback._

* * *

**Chapter III: A Dance of Masters**

"Alas, we have come to this," one said to another.

"Aye, my friend. There cannot be any other way," the other responded.

Masters of magic looked at each other. Chilled was the morning, the sun having just started its lazy path across the sky. A drowsy mist hung above their heads and high trees stood all around them as silent sentinels or dark witnesses of what was to come. The first one to speak was dressed in fair robes of red and gold, steel dressed in black hung at his side; while the other one was dressed in implacable black and dark green robes, silver lining adorning them, and he held an ebony walking staff in his hand. Both had matching black hair and similar features, though the first one was better built. What truly set these two apart was their eyes, for the eyes of the first one were of a reddish brown colour, similar to a living flame, while the other one had grey eyes as cool and strong as the finest steel.

These two masters were Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, co-founders of Hogwarts and two of the strongest wizards history has ever known.

"Do Rowena and Helga know anything about this?" Salazar spoke, his voice betraying him by showing concern.

"I made sure they could not, so you need not worry about that." Godric answered, and then both fell silent for a good while, after which Godric spoke:

"There's no need to do this, Salazar, there must be another way."

"Nay Godric… for you and I know that only through a duel will our differences truly be settled, and one of us will be able to part from Hogwarts in peace…" Salazar answered back, his voice showing the slightest hint of emotion as he pronounced those words. 

Godric lowered his head. So Salazar was ready to risk it all… well, so was he. Godric then raised his head, and all the uneasiness that had been gathering in his eyes and frown was replaced by a grim determination. 

They would duel until one stood victorious.

Godric unsheathed his sword. A fine piece of magical art it was; rubies adorned the hilt and the silver blade gleamed in the pale light of the sun. The single legend of 'GODRIC GRYFFINDOR' marked the otherwise flawless blade, and all around it and Godric the air became charged with the gathering of power. He bowed.

Salazar closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them there was no longer any kind of feeling, only the determination to win. He then produced in one swift motion a blade from the depths of his staff and entered a defensive stance. The sword Salazar wielded was in truth a rapier whose steel blade was perfectly smooth and whose silver pommel was in the shape of a snake with emeralds for eyes. He returned the bow.

Reality trembled, the weave of life wavered and time went still in anticipation. The duel had begun.

Godric wielded his sword with strength and precision, slashing at his opponent as he came with speed and deadliness. He seemed to be a lion, strong and confident, always coming from the front. Salazar reacted with both speed and ability, and when steel met steel nature itself winced at the conflagration of power. But it lasted naught but a mere second before Salazar moved his rapier down, following the sword's movement, and then up in a circular move, seeking to strike in the centre of Godric's chest and finish him in one strike, just like a snake's bite. Godric was faster, though, and up his sword went, deflecting the incoming strike and preparing for a new attack. So it was their dance, one attacked and the other defended, their roles exchanging with each passing move, and whenever their weapons met, expelled power was the result.

Both masters continued their dance. Blows were exchanged with skill the world would never see again, for this was an art the four had chosen to at last leave behind. Too dangerous, Helga had cried; too ineffective, Rowena had claimed; too ambitious, Salazar had whispered; too powerful, Godric had said. What the four agreed upon was that it was an extraordinary art, but one that a peaceful world should not know.

At last, both opponents stopped for a brief moment and stepped away from each other, their eyes always locked in never ending struggle. Reality could breathe for a second before the two resumed their duel.

"As always, Salazar, I marvel at your strength," Godric commented back to Salazar, his voice a mingle of sadness though there also was a hint of excitement in it.

"And it is with surprise that I see a softer life has not weakened you," Salazar replied, his voice sad as well but with a slight hint of humour.

"Let us continue, Salazar." And both wizards returned to their duel. 

This time the dance was different. 

As Godric raised his sword in front of his face words of an ancient tongue were muttered, their echoes threatening to interfere with the tendrils of reality, and the sword was engulfed in scorching flames the colour of gold and blood. Godric then moved his sword up and then down, and the flames of the blade were propelled against Salazar. Upon seeing this, Slytherin raised his rapier up to the sky and muttered words similar to those Gryffindor used, their echoes silenced by the rushing winds that came to serve Salazar as he had commanded. He then slashed down and the wind shot against the rushing flames.

Fire and wind clashed, and in their clash they danced a magnificent waltz, ever twisting, ever spiralling, neither subsiding and only increasing. The trees inched away their branches and leaves in order to not be caught in the dance, and all plants sought the underground to escape from this battle. At last, tension became too great, and in one last, swift move, both elements destroyed each other.

The duellists gave nature no time to recover as both rushed against the other in the same path left by their previous attack. Godric's sword glowed scarlet, while Salazar's rapier emanated light as green as dew. With renewed strength, they began a furious exchange of blows.

From all possible directions the attacks came, slash after slash, blow after blow; their movements were a blur of red and green, power intertwining as metal encountered metal. At last, their weapons screeched as they slid against each other and both opponents came to a halt in a tense lockdown.

Godric was panting, as well as Salazar, and both still had their eyes locked on each other. Words were not needed in a moment like this. Both rivals had tested each other enough and were ready to deliver real attacks.

And the fight continued.

Godric, using his superior physical strength, pushed Salazar back and slashed away. The blade never touched Salazar but the red glow cut Slytherin's left shoulder as if it had cut through air itself. Yet, Salazar had slashed as well, cutting Godric in his right thigh with the same easiness as his rival. Both had drawn blood.

Both opponents looked perplexed at their wounds, as if they couldn't believe they had been hurt. Their pride and confidence made that realization harder than necessary. But then, the two smiled at each other, adrenaline compelling them to do thus, and retuned to the duel. 

Godric and Salazar raised their spare hands, palms open and facing the other, and even light itself seemed to quiver at the sudden gathering of power that took place in the centre of their palms. Flashes of red light, like sparks of living flame, started to gather in their hands. The flashes of light melded into a sphere barely the size of their palms, yet the power and magic gathered there made all things shrink away in awe and fear, for rarely could pure magic be seen manifested in such a way.

At last, both wizards fired identical jets of red light. Majestically they flew, just like the bolts of Zeus himself as they arched through the ethereal skies, but contrary to what both wizards expected, their attacks never met. Their aim had been different and thus the red lights found their targets. The two wizards fully received the impact and were thrown more than 10 yards away.

All came to an abrupt stop.

"That… was… fun," Godric panted as he struggled to get up. His whole body was stunned and very slowly was the numbness going away. 

"Only you… Gryffindor… would be insane enough… to say… that," Salazar replied with as much dignity as he could through his panting and numbness.

The two then looked at each other for a good length of time, and at last laughed in a way they hadn't laughed in a very long while. Traces of a forgotten friendship lingered in that sound, but the laughter died and both slowly returned to their feet, the grim determination returning to their faces. Their friendship had once been sacred, but the rift their differences had created was too great for their friendship to match. Enemies they had vowed to be, but today they intended to leave all that behind through one last battle.

Godric and Salazar started to close the distance between them once again, at first slowly and then faster. As they ran flames surrounded both masters – Gryffindor by gold and red ones and Slytherin by green and silver ones – and when they met it was more a conflagration of wills –represented in the flames- rather than of steel and strength. Each flame tongue sought to devour the other. Snakes of green flames and birds of red flames locked in an ethereal battle, one destined to breach the tapestry of reality itself, for both wielded the strength of the universe, and only through sheer will would a victor be proclaimed.

They didn't know how much time they had spent fighting in that way, and neither they cared, for no one was willing to give up, but at last Salazar's will, cunningly fuelled by both ambition and strength, prevailed over Godric's, his flames devouring at last the red ones. Gryffindor was thrown away. The green flames slowly subdued, and Salazar advanced upon Godric.

"Can this be true, Godric, that now you find yourself defeated?" Salazar questioned Godric, who was in the ground struggling to stand up, but apparently being too weak to do so. Salazar's voice had pride and contentment in it.

"Do you think that, Salazar?" Godric answered from the floor, his tone challenging but bitter.

"Evidence proves me right, and besides, you and I are too exhausted to keep going on anymore."

"That has always been your mistake, Salazar… your ambition has driven your will to be stronger than mine, but it has also blinded you by making you believe that you have won… for there are fires that will never be extinguished!"

And as Godric pronounced those last words flames brighter than those of the sun suddenly engulfed his whole self, and the flames grew and Godric's power seemed to have been renewed, because he rose from the ground and with a move of his sword the flames shot at Salazar and enveloped him. Slytherin seemed to burn alive inside the flames, but no scream or sign of pain came from his mouth. Instead, a burst of green flames came from the depths of the golden fires and made them disperse, leaving a barely touched Salazar in the middle of the scorched ground, kneeling and gasping for breath.

His rapier was no longer in his hand, but in the ground at his side.

Godric was in no better state, though. After that sudden release of power, he had nearly fainted. Yet, he had managed to stand upright and hold his sword all the time. He walked over to where Salazar was.

"It is with a strategy I devised that you defeat me… how fitting," Salazar commented as he rose his eyes to meet Godric's. He simply nodded.

"My weapon is no longer in my hand, so that makes you the winner… but do not think I will leave Hogwarts without something to remember me… something that will protect it from _outsiders_…" Salazar continued, and gave Godric a smirk he well knew.

"I expected no less from you… friend," Godric answered, offering him a hand to stand up. Salazar took it, and both stared at each other for a long time. All around them reality and nature returned to normality.

"Alas, we in the end remain friends… tell Helga and Rowena that this was for the best… goodbye, Godric."

"Goodbye Salazar."

And Slytherin vanished away.


	4. The Last Stand of the Prewetts

**Dueling Wands**

By Animus

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_DISCLAIMER: Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I'm not making any profit out of this story._

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: A big thank you to my beta reader, Kaitie, and also to Caroline, for their excellent job at correcting my many mistakes and giving me wonderful feedback. Also, I would like to thank Aerin for letting me use her very nice and useful defensive spell Defendo. Finally, I would like to thank **rubyqueen17** and **scott** for their kind reviews and good suggestions. I hope this new chapter is of your liking._

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**Chapter IV: The Last Stand of the Prewetts **

Short, quick breaths escaped Gideon Prewett's mouth as he stood in the middle of a now ruined living room. He was a tall and strong wizard; brown haired and dark blue eyed, and was wearing partially ruined black robes. His right hand steadily held his wand as his left one lay limply at his side, blood running down the length of his arm from his shoulder and dripping from the tips of his fingers. His eyes were quickly jumping from enemy to enemy, registering two hooded and masked figures with wands drawn out. Not good at all. 

"Hey, Fabian, are you all right?" Gideon asked the man behind him. 

Fabian was as tall and strong as his brother, but his hair was a shade darker and his eyes were dark green; he was wearing slightly burned and battered red and blue robes. Their backs were one against the other. 

"I'm fine, brother. Just a little battered, but nothing serious. I can still kick some Death Eater arse," Fabian responded, and both Prewetts let out an identical short laugh. 

"I have two on this side, and you?" Gideon whispered. 

"Two bastards here, bro," Fabian answered, his voice low but bitter. 

"Watch your tongue, little bro. What would mother say if she heard you?" Gideon reprimanded his brother, just like he used to do at Hogwarts when they were younger. 

"She would probably agree with me," Fabian countered, and then both brothers had to stifle another laugh because they realized four Death Eaters were ready to kill them. 

"Are you ready, brother?" Gideon said, his voice now serious and his whole being ready for what was to come. 

"Ready…" Fabian replied, tensing up as he also prepared for what was to be their last stand. 

The Death Eaters now surrounded them and, as one, they all released a different curse. 

Gideon Prewett's brow was furrowed in deep concentration. His status as undefeated chess master and champion was at risk. One wrong move and all would be doomed. 

"Would you move already? I'm tired of waiting!" Fabian complained to his brother as he shifted in his chair. "For Merlin's sake, you have been staring at the board for a good ten bloody minutes!" 

"Shut up!" Gideon said in his most threatening voice. It also had a good deal of irritation in it. 

"Make me!" Fabian challenged back, but Gideon simply growled and glared at him as he surveyed the chessboard once again. If only that pawn wasn't in the way… 

"Aha!" Gideon exclaimed as he finally realized which move to make and confidently advanced his black knight two spaces forward and one to the left. Fabian quickly claimed Gideon's Queen but Gideon simply moved his tower to the same line as Fabian's king. 

"Checkmate, little brother," said Gideon. 

Fabian, as an answer, swore loudly and dropped his head onto the chessboard. The chess pieces barely managed to jump out of the way and immediately started to yell at him. Some were even hitting him. Gideon just laughed. 

"Oh well," Fabian said as he brought his head up. "It's a stupid game after all. Nothing like Quidditch, of course, where _I _ am the champion," Fabian proclaimed and swatted the chess pieces in order to silence them. Gideon conceded the point and they picked up the chess set. 

"Where do you think Voldemort's next attack is going to be?" Fabian queried as he and his brother made their way to the kitchen, each holding steaming mugs of coffee. The room was relatively small as it only had the basic things and nothing more; in the middle was a table with four chairs and surrounding it were the different components found in a typical wizarding kitchen. It had entrances to both the living room and the dining room and a door leading to the garden. The brothers, who were two of the few wizards that were not afraid of saying the Dark Lord's name, were occupying two of the kitchen chairs. 

"I don't know, but wherever it is, we will be there to stop him. I mean, what can he do against the fabulous Prewett brothers? " Gideon replied, his voice low but secure, while his eyes held a gleam of humour. 

"Cheers to that!" And Fabian raised his mug and drank. As he was drinking, his eyes caught sight of a shadow moving just outside the window of the kitchen. Immediately he put down his mug and reached for his wand in a most natural way. His eyes never left the window. Gideon mirrored him. 

"A Death Eater?" Gideon asked, his voice barely perceptible. 

"I think-" but Fabian couldn't finish his sentence. The door leading to the backyard was blown apart and three cloaked figures charged into the kitchen. They were hooded and masked in perfect black, and their wands were aiming at the Prewetts, who had just managed to roll out of the way of the blasted door. 

" _Stupefy! _" Both Prewetts yelled in unison. Twin jets of red light were fired from their wands. The Death Eaters dived for cover and the brothers ran out of the kitchen, feeling that their chances were better in the more spacious living room. 

Gideon arrived first and looked in dismay at how two other Death Eaters had made their way into the living room, both with wands raised. Gideon then had to drag Fabian to the ground in order to evade the curses the Death Eaters had fired. The curses zoomed above their heads like furious wasps and immediately the brothers sought to stand up. The most they could do was to reach a kneeling position before they had to defend themselves. 

" _Protego! _" They shouted at the same time, each one pointing at a different group of enemies. Their identical silver shields barely resisted the curses sent their way, which bounced away in all directions. The deflected curses wreaked havoc among the Death Eaters, sending them for cover, and began the destruction of the Prewetts' living room. A chair was destroyed and flames consumed a shelf full of portraits of family and friends. 

"Gideon, take the ones in the kitchen," Fabian whispered to his brother as their shields faded. Gideon nodded, and the two brothers immediately stood up and broke into a run, seeking the opposite sides of the kitchen and the living room, respectively. 

Fabian was the first to receive fire from a nearby Death Eater, but his speed and superior Seeker reflexes allowed him to roll under the green light and end up in a kneeling position. Without a second thought he released silver light, and the Death Eater's wand flew away from his hand and directly into Fabian's free hand. The younger Prewett smiled, but had little time to rejoice as purple light found him from behind. 

Fabian's vision started to grow darker by the second, all colours and forms washing away and melting into thick shadows. It seemed like all the light had suddenly been robbed from him, but Fabian knew it was the blinding curse, _Oculumortis _. Luckily, he knew the counter curse but first needed to take care of the Death Eater behind him. Thus, he turned around and with both wands pointing to the front he yelled: " _Reducto! _" 

Yellow jets of light charged like wild beasts against everything in front of Fabian, blowing it all apart and sending pieces of ruined furniture, among other things, in all directions. A scream coming from in front of him gave Fabian the cue to turn to where the other Death Eater had been standing and throw the Dark wizard's wand away, in hopes of luring the Death Eater away. 

Fabian then dropped to his knees and cast the _Finite Incantatem _ charm upon his eyes. Blessed light and colour gradually returned to him, just as if a heavy black veil had been removed from his eyes. 

Gideon, meanwhile, had also received fire from three enemies, but as they all were huddled at the kitchen's entrance, he rolled under the curses and directly charged the Death Eaters, tackling one down while making the other two jump away. Gideon and the Death Eater struggled momentarily on the floor, both trying to stand up and punch the other at the same time. The Dark wizard landed a heavy blow on the right side of Gideon's face, but the older Prewett returned the favour by smashing his fist against the Death Eater's ribs and face. 

His opponent let him go, and Gideon half ran, half crawled towards the dining room. He could feel the biting heat of curses as they nearly hit him, one even managing to graze his head, but only causing a little cut. 

At last Gideon managed to reach the other side of the dining room and defiantly stood up, turning to face his opponents. The Death Eaters went against him, just like vicious beasts, purple light already leaving one of their wands. Gideon didn't fire back; instead, he evaded the attack and pointed his wand to a chair near one Dark wizard. The chair lifted from the ground and with a swish of Gideon's wand it rammed the Death Eater down with quite some force. The Death Eater fell. 

Gideon, however, had no time at all to celebrate, for he had to desperately seek cover from deadly green light. He ducked, and by doing so the curse soared above him and went on to burst in flames against the wall. Gideon raised his eyes just in time to see the other Death Eater preparing to also cast the Killing Curse, half of the incantation already out of his mouth. Gideon's eyes narrowed and, not fearing the _Avada Kedavra, _ he focused on the Death Eater's mask and chanted a spell. 

" _Incendio! _" The mask burst into flames before the hated curse was finished. The Death Eater screamed in intense pain and, dropping to the ground, he frantically sought to remove the mask before more flesh could be burnt. Gideon smiled in triumph as his glare sought the last enemy. However, the glare turned into a look of utter surprise as he found knives, forks and other silverware darting at him. Out from the corner of his eye he could see the cloaked figure directing the projectiles at him. 

Gideon tried getting out of their way, but a knife and a fork reached him and pierced his left arm, making him wince in pain as he rolled under the table. Gideon quickly removed the utensils and looked around, trying to assess the situation. 

After having regained his vision, Fabian also took a moment to study the situation at hand. He was aware that they had to stay cool and controlled if they wanted to survive, and thus he had to plan his next move. While doing so, Fabian's eyes encountered his brother's eyes from all the way across the house. Both brothers wore resolved looks as they nodded to each other, words no longer necessary between them, and at the same time they stood up, knocking or blasting away whatever was in their path, and ran towards the other under a myriad of curses and jets of light. 

The brothers met in the kitchen, but they quickly went back to the living room as they sought a good place to fight. Gideon saw that two of the three Death Eaters he had been fighting with had ran after him; the third surely was still writhing in pain due to the burned mask. The Dark wizard deserved that. The wizards Fabian had fought with were already aiming at them. 

Gideon and Fabian then turned to aim at the four Death Eaters around them as they were being surrounded… 

The curses thrown their way seemed a shower of mingling lights, each one soaring through the air as a bird of prey. Their speed was great and their power terrible. Just like all the curses from the servants of the Dark Lord. 

But they were facing the Prewetts. 

As if they were one, Gideon and Fabian raised their wands not to meet the curses, but upwards, and in one potent voice they did a double charm. 

" _Defendo! _" 

Thoughts of strength and power flooded the minds of the Prewetts. Their mind's eyes focused on the strongest, greatest things they knew. Gideon's mind was placed in the legendary strength of the magical sword Excalibur, the one weapon that no enemy, mortal or immortal, could defeat. The Holy power the sword had been rumoured to possess, one that could defeat all darkness, filled Gideon and in turn went to the charm. Fabian's mind was picturing the mythical strength of the Phoenix, the only being that neither flames nor death could claim. His heart and soul was filled with the memory of the Phoenix's song and that gave him strength and power beyond all things. He channelled them into the charm. 

And so, just before the curses could touch the Prewetts, a semi-translucent sphere - now gold, now silver - encased the two brothers and all four curses crashed against the shield as waves crashing against solid rock. The shield was intact. 

The Death Eaters all seemed amazed by the advanced charm of the Prewetts, but it only lasted for an instant as they began to throw curse after curse against them. The shield held on, but with each impact Gideon and Fabian winced, and their breath started to come in heavy gasps due to the effort of defending against four dark wizards. 

"Hey, brother," Fabian called between gasps. "I'm tired of simply defending ourselves, how about if we attack?" 

In spite of having the shield sustain one quite powerful curse, Gideon smiled. His brother was right. The Prewetts were not to be cornered by a few petty murderers and followers of a mad man. 

"I hear you, brother. Let's show them our power." Fabian smiled at that answer and both turned their wands to point in the general direction of the Death Eaters. The thoughts of strength in their minds were turned from defence to offence. Excalibur would gleam with power as it hacked and slashed through the enemies of Camelot, and the Phoenix would sing from the depths of Hell itself, rising from the ashes to defeat the evil and the wicked. And they gave voice to this power. 

" _Eradico! _" 

The shield suddenly glowed bright and the Death Eaters froze at the huge power gathered in the bubble. A second passed, and then the bubble burst, releasing all the gathered power in one wave of mighty destruction. Its colour was that of blood, and the Dark wizards had no escape. Each one of them was blasted into a wall or shelf, and they fell, defeated and unconscious. 

In the middle of the ruined room, two victorious but really tired brothers stood. 

"Ha… that should teach them to not mess with us," Fabian said as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle. Their precious living room once filled with many memories and prized possessions now lay in ruins. A few fires were smouldering here and there, their tongues slowly devouring all that wasn't already destroyed. 

But they had won, and that was what really mattered. 

Gideon said nothing to his brother, and instead went to check on each fallen Death Eater, petrifying each one of them so they would not give them any more trouble. When he was done he turned to see that Fabian was putting the fires out so he decided to go ahead and contact Headmaster Dumbledore and the Magical Law Enforcement Squad so they could come and take these criminals to Azkaban, where they could rot in peace. 

However, as he walked to the fireplace, his eyes strayed to the kitchen door. What he saw froze his heart. There, standing with wand raised and pointing to Fabian, stood the fifth Death Eater, the one he had thought he had defeated by burning his mask and face. The Death Eater's face, long and pale, was indeed burnt in various places; but he was wearing a look of such hatred and madness that even Gideon felt fear for a second. The Death Eater then attacked with the most terrible Unforgivable. 

" _Avada Kedavra! _" 

There was no time to warn his brother. Inch by inch, the rushing death consumed the distance between the Death Eater and Fabian, who had turned around when he heard the curse and now was wearing a look of not fear, but helplessness. Fabian knew he was going to die, and the older Prewett could easily read that. 

But Gideon was not going to allow his little brother to die. 

Breaking into run at top speed, Gideon knew he could intercept the curse… with his body. But that was okay - Gideon was no longer afraid of death. He had loved and had been loved, he had led his life with honour and righteousness, and he had always fought for what he believed in. 

Yes, he could die in peace. 

The only thing he regretted was never marrying and having children of his own, but that no longer mattered. Death awaited him. 

Fabian's mind and heart were frozen, his wand was up but he was unable to think of something to do. Green light was upon him, and he simply closed his eyes with frustration at the fact that he could do nothing at all eating him in these his last moments of life. Funny, he wondered, how he was thinking about something petty instead of something more important. Anyway, there was no time left, and so, he braced for death, if such thing was possible. 

But it never came. 

Fabian only saw how his brother's shadow fell over him as Gideon received the impact in his place. Sickening green light surrounded and pierced Gideon as his life and soul were being torn apart. With a last flash, all light was gone. 

As a tall and strong tower whose foundations have been destroyed, Gideon crumbled down. 

Silence. 

"Gideon…" Fabian whispered with an empty voice. He couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing, and yet, he could already feel that an integral part of him had died. Ever since he could remember, Gideon had been there with him, not as a protective big brother, but as an equal. Their brotherhood was something sacred to him, and now it lay destroyed… 

War, hatred, darkness… his brother was dead. 

"Brother…" Fabian whispered once again as he crawled to his brother's body, the Death Eater totally forgotten, and saw Gideon's face. It was pale, but contrary to most victims of the Killing Curse, having their face marked by terror, Gideon's face was relaxed. In the end, Fabian realized, his brother had not feared death. 

_Brave till the end, just like you taught me… _Fabian thought as a lonely tear found its way down his cheek and to the floor. The tear fell, and with it, the Heavens cried. 

Fabian's mourning, however, did not last long. The Death Eater had recovered his breath and strength and lost no time in firing a new curse, once again towards Fabian. " _Nex Flagellum!" _ He brandished his wand as if it was a whip. From the tip purple fire sprung forth and then, with a slashing movement, the fire attacked. 

" _Reflecto! _" Fabian commanded with a cold voice, and in front of him the magical defensive mirror appeared. The smooth silver surface soon received the impact from the curse and the whole mirror exploded in a shower of crystals and tiny reflections. The curse, though, did not go through, and instead was bounced back to its origin— the Death Eater. 

The Dark wizard dove for dear life, barely managing to escape the bite from his own attack, and then quickly scrambled back to his own feet. His eyes, full of hatred, rose to meet Fabian's enraged ones. Both wizards were panting, their injuries and excessive effort at last taking their toll on them, especially on Fabian. 

The two wizards then slowly raised their wands, their eyes locked in silent battle, and aimed at the other's heart. Life or death, there was a fine line between them and one of them was about to cross it. In one more attack would this battle be decided, and so, the flames in the house and the wind above their heads froze in anticipation. 

" _Avada Kedavra! _" 

" _Eradico! _" 

And the curses rushed forth, hatred and vengeance propelling them. The curses met, and in a storm of green and red sparks they fought. Magic confronted magic, and he whose will and strength was greater would come out victorious, just as it has always been. Fabian was strong in both will and power, but the drawn out battle, the loss of his brother, and the continuous strain that fighting against reckless hatred causes made him weaker, and the Dark wizard stronger. 

And so Fabian fell, fighting the Killing curse till his last moments. He did not die with fear forced in his face. Instead, the mark of courage adorned his lifeless face. He and his brother were murdered by incomprehensible hatred and ambition, things that had not only consumed their lives, but were on the verge of destroying all that is good and right. 

The world was at war, and the Dark Mark glowed in the night sky as a beacon of fear and an omen of dread for all… yet, as long as there were people willing to die for what was right, then hope would not die… 

_As heroes they lived, and as heroes they died. May Gideon and Fabian Prewett rest in peace._


End file.
